Selfish
by Merciless Princess
Summary: Fiona Masters is an essentially selfish being. WARNING: OOC and AU


Essentially, Fiona Masters was a selfish being.

Throughout her entire life, Fiona had exactly what she wanted when she wanted served up on a silver platter and nothing got in her way. She was spoilt, narcissistic, and ruthless when it came to getting the things she wanted, whether it was clothes, shoes, jewellery, or men, especially men. It didn't matter to her if a man was with someone else, she would use whatever means necessary to ensnare them and she always got her own way. She knew which persona to switch on to capture someone's attention, she was talented actress, no one could deny that, and there were few that had the courage to call her out on the things she did. Those that did were usually laughed out the door, because her daddy was one of the richest men in New York and the only people that got on her bad side were extremely stupid. She was spoilt little girl that flashed a pretty smile, flipped her red hair over her shoulder, and had the world at her feet in a matter of seconds. Rich and pretty, apparently that was all it took to rule the world, and, when she saw him, she knew she had to have him, the shiniest, prettiest, most amazing thing she'd ever had.

Somewhere along the road in her pursuing, though, real emotions became involved and Fiona was startled to find that there was a heart buried in her chest. _He_ helped it to beat, he helped her to realise feelings she never thought she'd need, and she loved him, with all her selfish little heart. He didn't love her back, she knew that, she saw it in the way he looked at her sometimes, how his eyes would linger on her red hair (the wrong colour, his too blue eyes seemed to say, too straight), how he'd look sad sometimes when he thought she wasn't paying attention (especially when she wrinkled her nose at Pop Tarts), and how he'd whisper someone else's name into her skin sometimes (always with his eyes shut tight). Selfishly, because everything she did was selfish, she clung onto him, because he was happy too, he laughed when she'd act like a prissy little princess and she liked it when he laughed, so she vamped it up to make him smile at her, because she did so love it when he smiled. He, like everyone else, told her what she wanted to hear, told her that he loved her, told her he was happy, and she clung to those false words and ignored the regret that would sometimes show in his gaze.

Now, though, now Fiona could feel a strange calmness rushing through her as a cold hand held the back of her neck and in her captor's second hand was the other woman (though, Fiona supposed, she was the other woman really). Her captor wanted to make him choose between them, the former lover (his true love, Fiona knew, and she tried to pretend her heart didn't crumble a little at that) and the current one (the thief, the whore, the harlot, a niggling voice whispered at the back of her mind, the selfish little princess). He looked terrified, those too blue eyes flying between them, and Fiona knew he wouldn't be able to choose and he'd be heartbroken when they both died. She had no doubt that she was going to hell, if it existed, she was a bad person, she knew that, and she was selfish and spoilt and took things that weren't hers to have, like him. Maybe, just maybe, she could redeem herself and, at the same time, tie him to her forever, make him remember her until the day he died (always selfish, always, always, always).

"You can't make him choose," Fiona's voice was strangely calm, holding that imperious, ringing air that annoyed so many people, and her green eyes flashed with contempt. "You can't give someone an ultimatum with people, because people think for themselves, you ignoramus, I mean, _god_," she snorted and the captor stared at her, an amused smile tilting his lips.

"I can do whatever I like-"

"Actually, you can't," Fiona interrupted and her captor's hand tightened around the back of her neck painfully, but she didn't flinch and rolled her eyes. "You see, _I'm_ the spoilt little princess here, _not_ you, and I get whatever _I_ want," she said simply and his eyebrows shot up in silent question. "Now, just remember one thing, I'm an essentially selfish person and I only do things that benefit me," she stated firmly, green eyes glittering, and she twisted like a snake in his grasp, feet slipping over the side of the skyscraper.

"NO!" that was her, the one _he_ really loved, and Fiona only smiled as she plummeted downwards and her red hair streamed upwards. "NO!" the other woman (it comforted Fiona, to think of the brunette that way) screamed and big brown eyes stared in horror.

Another voice echoed in Fiona's ears, though, a loud, bellowing roar, like a wounded animal, and she closed her eyes, savouring that sound. He sounded truly sad, sad she was dying, sad she selfishly stole his choice from him (he wouldn't have chosen her, she knew that, she was punishing him, selfish, selfish, selfish), and she felt a strange sense of peace wash over her. People would remember her, people would know that she died instead of the pretty, doe eyed brunette, _he_ would know, _he_ would remember, and that soothed her. Maybe she would go to Valhalla, like he undoubtedly would, she didn't think so, though, because she would go to hell, there was no escaping that, and she wondered if it would hurt, or if it would be peaceful. She would die on impact, she knew that, she would splatter across the sidewalk, be just another stain on the streets of New York, but people would remember her stain and no one would forget her. Perhaps it'd be quick, smack and dead, it should be, and she savoured the feel of the wind rushing over her skin, the chiffon skirt of her dress tickling her skin. She should've worn a prettier dress, she mused, she would've done if she'd known she was dying today, and her hair was going to be awfully windswept and messy.

"FIONA!"

He sounded so scared, so sad, so furious.

Fiona just closed her eyes and smiled as her body smacked against the sidewalk with a sickening splat.

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**Extremely OOC and brief, I know. It was this thing that popped into my head one day and I guess it's just a little writing practice since I haven't uploaded in years. Still, hope you enjoy!**


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